Post
by Stormiie
Summary: Set early after season seven. The new watchers council is now in its infantry and beginning to flourish. Things finally seemed sorted out and Buffy finally is a bit unshaken from the apocalypse until she gets a package with a certain amulet inside. Spuffy
1. Noah

Story Name: Post

**Story Name: **Post

**Summary: **Set early after season seven. The new watchers council is now in its infantry and beginning to flourish. Things finally seemed sorted out and Buffy finally is a bit unshaken from the apocalypse until she gets a package with a certain amulet inside.

**Story Summary: **Meet out messenger Noah and our package with a surprise inside.

**Authors Notes:**I think this has been done before but I'm twisting it around because its what I do. Anyway please review. D Stormiie

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-xx-x-x-x-x-x-x--x-x-x-xx-x--x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

_Set in October 2003, after apocalypse in London England. _

**Chapter 1 – Noah.**

Noah's heart was on fire.

The night was newborn almost, the sun had just been eaten up by the horizon exploding in spans of livid oranges and vibrant reds. London night air always seemed chillier than any other country, though it was only in the early stages of fall, the air was already bitter and chilling. Wrapping his deep pocketed coat around his quivering figure, Noah darted his eyes between streets feeling his heart ache and eat away once another flickering flash of blue lights was thrown into the starry night sky. The frosty air whipped over his face as he crouched behind the few pillars of a grubby alleyway. He could feel his heart flutter and ricochet off the barricades of his ribcage, once an slick black BMW gloss its way across the brick English road.  
"God, so close…" He whispered gently beneath his breath and squirreled his way across another empty brick road once again clinging and hiding behind a thick white light pole. Sneaking around to peek and see if a fellow BMW was trotting behind him. "Damn how am I going to go to the airport, rolling around as if I'm in mission impossible!?" He whispered harshly beneath his breath. Despite the maybe not so well thought plan kinks, the plan was thought to have some heavy backup to it. Ha, like that would ever happen.  
Noah now seated at his sturdy lighting pole was pondering over this situation. Where was his back up men? His whole society all gone… like that? No. That couldn't be it. But once Noah turned his head seated on his shoulder (it being tense and not so comfortable sadly) shifted his eyes over the vacant brick English road – and he knew.

That he really was alone.

And that the chance of rolling from pole to pole to seven miles….

Wouldn't work.

With those disturbing thoughts burrowed inside his brain Noah leaned back a bit farther to readjust his glasses ruffle his black hair and feel his heartbeat maybe settle inside his ribcage. Yeah right. Recalling an age-old technique that was so simple yet so effective which his Shrink had called up at one point when he was having one of his weekly panic attacks – clutching his heart and breathing like a mad man. Counting to ten.

_One._

Now since Noah was sure that the airport was out of the question, which meant no L.A. which meant no Angel, which _also _meant that the package was in deep shit. Where else would it go? Thumbing the blunting corners he breathed in and tried to evoke the lost words of his boss well up inside him. _"Didn't have much allies, but there are two that can help him. One who shouldn't ever meet him again, another who is a long lost friend that isn't welcome. Now, we should know who to choose. Hmm?" _

Such a kind, angry man our boss is…. Noah thought and then immediately turned to his backpack behind him fumbling with the zipper and a leather bound notebook he pillaged though it to find all the pages empty except for two addresses and a few notes badly scribbled alongside them.

_Two._

The first one had been highlighted and beside it was written _Located in California Los Angeles. _So that proved to be the problem yes. The second one, not highlighted but crossed out but still legible beneath the bold black marker line said Birch Street.

And that was three blocks away.

Hearing a plane roar and grumble overhead Noah knew he had a decision to make. Pushing up his glasses that seemed determined to crawl off his nose he began to ponder when a low growling sound hummed nearby and he leaned over to turn and see who the intruder. Please let it not be a black BMW…..damn.

_Three._

No time to think, time to MOVE! Noah scrambled back up stuffing his notebook back into his bag and hurdling it over his shoulder hugging the precious package to his chest he felt his breathing begin to pick up once more and he breathed slow to make it run down once more.

_Four._

Now, time to go. Before the snarling BMW noticed his presence he bounded off into the darkness of the next street. Screw L.A. there was no way he could bloody well make it there. Nope, he had to go to this forbidden second address, didn't matter the consequences that his boss would surely pull and seduce on him. If they didn't want the amulet to fall into the hands of their dreaded enemy Noah would have to give it up.

_Five._

Scuttling down the next few paves the BMW noted him due to its perking and lighting up once it saw Noah scamper his not-so-merry way through those brick roads. It pulled into reverse and then back into a gnawing drive, pawing its way towards him. So close, so so close… Noah's brain ricochet and barricaded all over his skull once he began to take fleeing to the next level. Now hurling the bag over his shoulder and into his knobby fingers he ripped it open and plunged his hand inside to relieve it of a black pointed nose weapon. A dark shining revolver.

_Oh my god. Six. Oh my god. _

Boss had handed it over and noted drastically that it was ONLY for emergencies and as Noah pointed and aimed it backwards he knew this was as dangerous as it was going to get. The BMW immediately knew of the guns purpose and with that had once of its slick tinted windows peel down to reveal a darkly tan hand also armed with an revolver begin to shoot directly towards Noah who clumsily avoided them with a miracle. Noah now REALLY worried tried as hard as he could to sprint away down his destination down three blocks and to aim his revolver to shoot at his offender. I'm already a bad shot! He cursed blindly.

_Seven._

Bam. That's all it took. One shot ate its way into the BMW's inside hand was scarred and bloody a deep gash inside of it, another to shatter the once dark and glossy windshield to shards of glass, and one other to slam Noah right between his elbow and forearm.

"HOLY-BLOODY HELL!" Noah screeched out halting to cradle his arm that was now slimy and dripping in red hot droplets of blood. His forehead immediately broke out in condensation and large beads of sweat dropped down his face in a rage. The pain almost unbearable he twisted and knotted his face so he could strain it and divert the pain to another meeker one but it was of no use the bullet wound was now so deeply implanted inside of him there was no way of shaking it off or prying it out which was his next move when a sound alerted him to turn a shoulder and leer at his offender. Though the shot had definitely slowed the enemy down as the hand was plunged back inside what Noah could imagine leather black interior it had recovered quicker then Noah could imagine. For he was kneeling in the grubby night road clutching his wounded arm and bawling his head off his package and revolver both scattered upon the road, while the car was geared back into life another hand popping from the drivers side this time in a thick glove with a bigger revolver. No time to dilly dally that was for sure.

_HOLY FUCKING CRAP. Eight. OW, OW, BLEEDING OW._

Noah despite the burning and blinding pain that was circulating in the core of his arm clambered back up stumbling as he stretched over groping for the gun and package. He wedged the package to his limp arm and armpit then reached the gun behind him waving the gun like a lunatic and pulling the trigger madly.  
The bullets were flying like snowfall but deadlier and speedier. Noah was afraid of his reckless behavior but he had not much of a choice now, he was not shielded by a large expensive machine to cloak him from bullets. But, he did have what was precious to both parties, and it would stay that way – that was for sure. So since he had the package and not a cloak, he needed to be a bit reckless to maybe scamper away from these fools? Not something he was sure his mentor and boss would advise but… Noah decided he'd gnaw on his own advice for now, decided that right now his instinct proved more of value then long informational lectures that had inspired him. Instinct was singing stronger. And it said not only to turn but to shoot the tires equipped on that black BMW.  
_Nine._

Yes. God hell yes. When the screech of air escaping met his ears he was near singing and the eating pain that chafed in his bones was for a moment forgotten because the BMW behind him was now blubbering and choking to a curdling stop that included with the revolver the enemy attained clicked to show that it was out of bullets. YES. Noah then began to race even harder, his heart pumping, innards hurdling and swirling inside him. He felt so nauseous that he could've somersaulted right there and fallen asleep the package and black nosed weapon cuddled beside him as if some sick kind of security blanket. But no, he would have to push himself until he could flop his way over onto the second addresses placemat no matter and then push the precious package inside of the door then he could keel over tend his wound and sleep for God knows how long but for now, he must run.  
Once he felt as if that he might puke up his insides from the cramps that were bristling into his legs and die from rapid blood loss he made it onto the second addresses home. A run down apartment complex the apartments grimy and soiled smelling, gray encrusted windows complete with dreary curtains and ragged doors and softening brick It was all too…. low. How could the next-to-first owner of the precious package be located here? Normally Noah would survey the situation. Certainly Birch street was miswritten or read wrong. But now, the pain was too intense and the feeling crawling up his throat was almost unbearable and he would cling to any hope that this would be the end of his long and tiring mission.

The complex must've been _very _cheap for there was no attendant nor was there any kind of security present at the building but this was no issue as of now, and Noah almost sprinted up the three flights of stairs and scrambled over to that God forsaken number 493. Thank you Jesus.

_Ten. Done…._

After slipping the precious package inside after giving a quick peek to see if it was harmed in any way (there was nothing but a bit of dirt.) he peeled off the sticker that read the first addresses and messily wrote down the second one, not bothering to notice that it had a post mark saying to L.A. Then slipping it into the mail slot with an proud smile slick on his face.

He ruffled his dark hair pulled his glasses up back onto his nose and tore off the hem of his white T-shirt now shrouded in black mossy blood. He wrapped a tight bound around the wound to halt the bleeding and flinch at the pain then limped off to find shelter. Surely the gunshots were heard and alerted by the neighbors the police have probably already been contacted and most of all there were probably people scattered in the streets looking for the unusually short man with black hair and glasses fleeing the scene of the crime with a bloody infection of some sort.

Not to mention his enemy might've send out back ups to finish the job. Noah grinned.

He was just happy to get rid of that damn package.

No one likes being delivery boy.

-x-x-x-x-x-x--x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Andrew was feeling _way _under appreciated.

This is a bunch of crap. After all he had done he STILL was the outsider the 'annoying' one, the over eccentric one, the evil one! Andrew groaned and tightened his crimson ruby red robe around him as he guzzled down a few chugs of orange juice. They should know by now that he was _formerly _evil! With all his good doings! Teaming up with the slayer, fighting the last apocalypse, _not _falling back into the First's clutches. Hadn't he shown enough to prove his innocence and justify his now…. do-goodyness? (A/N Oh, oh, oh being Andrew is MUCH fun! D) He even put up that gosh darn board to explain their fight so organized…. He even used the non smelly markers so he wouldn't stink up the now buried basement.

But oh no, no, no.

It was all 'Do this Andrew', and 'Fetch me this Andrew.' and 'Its none of your business Andrew.'!! I should by now be included in Scooby meetings! Right? I've already been in the Scoobies for a year…. Even though there really isn't much of a 'Scooby gang' anymore…. Andrew pondered once he returned over to his bedroom to cuddle and rest a bit more in the plush pillows of his. The gang didn't really last long after the apocalypse both Willow and Xander left in a flash, which left the not-so-alone Slayer in fits of bubbly tears shoving Andrew from the doorway saying 'Andrew just get out! I don't need any of this!' slamming the mahogany door in his baffled face. No one appreciated his advice, trying to contact UFO XY had always been a calming thing for him! The Slayer had been incredibly broody after the giant fight, once finding out that Spike the vampire that Buffy seemed strangely infatuated with had died she seemed to have shut herself from the world. For three whole weeks she was dead bolted in her room, upset and crying rarely but usually she had an eerie silence around her. The kind of silence that you could feel choke you, and that was so heavy and pregnant you had to scatter away with hopes that some sort of distraction might tear you away. Hardly changing, but taking numerous showers, and swallowing a large amount of Wheatie Bits which Andrew found quite odd and unsettling. He really liked them with cheese…

After those few strange and fitful weeks Buffy and Giles both scrambled together to devise what seemed a plan for a new council one where not only Watchers but Slayers are in control and where they can create armies of young well trained Slayers to maybe demolish most of the demon race. So the two began to gather youthful unsuspecting Slayers together to train and surviving Watcher and to-be Watchers which included Dawn and Andrew…. well hopefully Andrew… he hadn't asked yet.

Buffy also found it a bit unstable to be living off of Anya's payments from her retail and decided to send that off to Xander to wherever the hell he was and get a job. At first she was considering waitresing, or her old high school job counseling. But the counseling job had been more of a set up for her than an actual proving of her skills and once she started talking about waitresing she kept babbling about someone named Anne. Of course Andrew wouldn't know too much since he was only listening through the keyhole to listen to the wages of Dawn and Buffy's discussions.

So in the end, though she despised it so, she decided to revive the old Magic Box with Giles. And even with her hatred for retail she did a satisfactory job, nowhere good as the giddy Anya was but… she survived.

Andrew dug himself deeper into the confines of his pillow to shut out the thoughts prickling his brain and try to drift back into that nice sleep he had had ten minutes ago if it wasn't for Dawn's sudden hiccup. Andrew turned his head to reveal another twin bed ten feet from him laying a young teenage girl with dreads of tangled brown hair over her face snoring softly. Dawn and Buffy argued constantly over Dawn's feelings with sharing a room with Andrew, but Buffy was rock solid saying that she didn't feel comfortable enough to sleep in the same room with someone. Even a sister. Andrew had no complaints, it was cute to watch how Dawn breathed fast and soft like a field mouse, the only thing he relished was the fact of Dawn's occasional loud hiccup or snore and the fact that she liked to hog the room with what felt like eternities while she was held up choosing and mismatching her outfits. And hey, he was clumsy at times and occasionally he'll leave some half eaten pizza under his roommates pillow….but its never like he plans to anyway! Andrew rolled over relentlessly peering into the eerie green glow of the alarm clock resting beside his bed. Six stinking thirty in the morning and he couldn't even feel an eye lap closed. It could be the faint pops he had been hearing snap into his ears all night until recently an hour ago. They had kept him alert and curious, at multiple times he peeked from out the dust covered blinds (which Buffy had been complaining about being dusted the past two weeks) But nothing came out to jump out into Andrews scrunched face. Andrew thought at first that if the fading pops would just come to a stop he could settle back into sleep but once they ended he found himself even MORE curious and even MORE aware of his surroundings. Darn you jinx. So all-night he had pittered-pattered across the apartment flat watching bits of muted tv as he practiced his awesome skill of reading lips (can finally understand 'glass' from 'ass' Hah.) Even tried to break himself into the sandy binds of a leather bound book for….a few minutes.

But anyway!

Sleep had been fitful and in handfuls to Andrew and now that he felt some what settled due to the large amounts of orange juice plundering around in his belly, he was going to darn well sure going to make the most of it. Snuggling deeper and deeper into the pitfall of his pillows and Star Trek comforter that he had been lucky enough to stash away inside the bus before the whole Sunnydale clashed together, he felt his eyes begin to droop. Long and large steady breathes now emitted from him and most of all that feeling of bliss was beginning to coat him. Oh sweet, sweet slumber here I come!  
_Ucccccckgh._

"Goshdarnnit Dawn!" He groaned and lashed out to her as he flipped the comforter from his legs and leered with light baby blue eyes at Dawn who was now beginning to drool upon the pillow her head rested on. Not even _phased. _Such a stinking heavy sleeper, why can't _I_ do that!! His mind snarled as he stumbled out of bed and tried to messily remake it. Glancing to the clock he saw it read 6:45 now, which meant in about fifteen minutes even if he did manage to curl back to sleep Buffy and Dawn would be aroused from their sleep by the loud and sudden squeals of their alarm clocks, one of them (if he managed through that too) would then shake him awake and make him face the day. Lets just face it, it wasn't worth it.

Andrew shed his crimson favored robe revealing beneath some Twilight Zone (A/N I want some of these x3) pajamas - I like the be warm! London's cold! - undressed those too and put on some groovy Hawaiian shirt he had revived from his last visit to Mexico with Jonathan and some faded jeans. Stepped out of his bedroom with glazed and dazzled eyes as he scanned alongside for his leftover orange juice that was resting upon the counter table. Gulping down the last few drops he felt the sweet salty rinse that felt like satin coating his parched throat. Lately since they moved to London's chilly air, Andrew's throat has been suspiciously sore most of the time. The air dryer here and more humid than in Sunnydale (or even Mexico) so he felt a bit sore most of the time.

Hey what the….

Once Andrew's eyes downcast from his shiny pulp stained glass they caught hold onto something. In the mail slot (which was hardly ever used since Giles messed with the bills and Willow and Xanders letters to Buffy had been less and less) was an unusual sight. A small square package was wedged halfway through its lips, due to it being not a letter but a package even it may be small nothing bigger than a couple of letters could even fit through that little door, and even so why not just leave the thing on the front porch?

Its not like people are ravenous to eat up our mail. Andrew pondered as he crouched down placed his glass on the shelf and inspected the package that was badly tattered and tethered beyond belief. He withdrew a hand and touched it gently to feel not only its rubbed and soft cardboard but also the gristle from what seemed to be….street dust?  
This was weird, beyond weird.  
The new summers gang had not many friends – Dawn and Buffy had been fighting excessively and didn't play well with others - so who would send this? He outstretched a hand wondering briefly if maybe it was for him but he doubted it highly all his friends were dead now and his family was god knows where, but he still hoped blindly. For he knew it could be some kind of prize and he won the 'Most Graphic Novels' contest! He then snapped and pulled at it but it was securely latched between the metal monsters lips. Now both hands onto the mail slot he pulled drastically and heaved backwards. Pulling, pulling, pulling, gosh this hurts, pulling, pulling, I need to tone on my burly figure, pulling, pulling, _POP._

The package was now in the confines of Andrew's grip and he turned closer to examine it with a close eye. It was defiantly broken, an the address was written with bold marker over an old sticker seal its edges rounded and strings of messed with cardboard waved in the air. It read, _Summer Residence. _  
Andrew stood flipping the small package over and investigating it over and over in the Kitchens flickering light when the alarms rang.

Dawn's tired and unenthusiastic voice droned into the room and Andrew in need stuffed the package into his jeans, it barely got past the stitching but somehow the force made it be stuffed deeply in there. Once he peered up from his jeans he saw Dawn making her way towards him as she plopped her head snug on his shoulder. He felt himself flush bright pink.  
"Erghhh mornings aren't fun. Like Hitler except now he has the sun on his side." She moaned but most of it wasn't even clear as it was muffled into his shoulder blade. He could hear the bustle and felt the hairs on his back prickle up. Buffy was getting up! Now even he knew that snooping through peoples mail was wrong, not to mention jail worthy which wasn't Andrews thing. But this….was different. He knew somehow that _he _needed to open it and not Buffy. It was almost as if the package was telling him so.  
Oh my gosh I'm talking to mail.

"Eh, whats with you Andy?" Dawn's affectionate nickname she used only when she was worried for him drew Andrew from his thoughts of speaking to mailed letters and packages and turned with a great big smile at her, his now long dirty blonde hair resting in his face.

"Huh? No… uh…. Nothing… I mean…-"

"What's that in your pants?" Dawn said gesturing to the speaking package.  
"Eh… I'm happy to see you! Um Dawn I need to get ready so I get the room first!"

Leaving Dawn with the most confused and distorted face he sprinted into the room as he just saw Buffy emerge sleepy eyed and tousled hair everywhere and he could even hear her groan.

"Why are you always so fidgety Andrew? Like some pussy vampire in an epic movie…"  
He paid no attention to her sarcastic words and practically leaped upon his bed. With hard calloused fingers due to his demon practice he began to unlatch the weak and feeble tape from its place and slowly opened the package.

Inside there was no cotton, nor was there any foamy popcorn that Andrew so much loved to sprinkle, there was only a necklace.

An amulet that was incredibly bulky and of silver colored, jewels adorned its frame and a even larger one cramped in the middle shimmering like a god on its throne. The feeling of the necklace was so powerful and so binding that he was drawn toward it, and he felt those silent and gesturing words usher him again. Whispering and chattering they told him to put the large piece of jewelry upon his neck. What was this? A gift from Angel? No, he didn't even know we lived here….no. Then what could it be a scam? A dem-

Too late.

A large flash of light sprinkled upon his eyes and his body had a strange out of world experience like he was drowning in an ocean with no water. Ripping off the strange feeling by throwing the amulet on the floor eyes widened and chest crest fallen he breathed hard.  
"ANDREW I HAVE TO USE THAT EFFIN ROOM! DON'T MAKE ME COME IN THERE AND STAKE YOU!"  
Dawn's voice is more terrifying then some out of world experience….  
"You're not a slayer!"  
"Oooh, you don't need Slayer strength to hurt you Andy!"  
Andrew now even more horrified stuffed the package scraps beneath his bed and the amulet beneath his pillow.

Comic Book places sure did give out weird prizes.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-xx-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

* * *

**Authors Notes: **Hah isn't Andrew hilarious!? D Sorry that there was no perspective for Buffy and Spike hasn't come out yet but lets take this all at a time. Anyway it may take three days for updates I don't know. Also I haven't read Season Eight because I'm poor so don't tell me and don't make me change it because of Angel. I haven't seen the fifth season so I'm clueless. Its an AU people. Supposed to be different. Review and tell me any changes please :) Stormiie

**Next Chapter:**

Buffy's life has been climbing the ladder from before. And Andrew is well in for a surprise. What of Noah? Know in the next chapter to Post. **Game of the Devil.**


	2. Game of the Devil

**Story Name– **Post

**Summary - **Set early after season seven. The new watchers council is now in its infantry and beginning to flourish. Things finally seemed sorted out and Buffy finally is a bit unshaken from the apocalypse until she gets a package with a certain amulet inside. Spuffy

**Chapter Summary – **Not everyone can play Monopoly, and hey was there something behind me? D:

**Authors Notes – **This chapter disappoints me. But I tried my best. I like the chapters name though. Sorry for the delay was at my dads and was doing another fic _Chained to You, read and review. _Anyway please review and I hope you enjoy it!

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

**Chapter 2 **– Game of The Devil.

"No! This is the game of the Devil!" Buffy wailed thrashing her arms about in resistance. Dawn latched upon them with her hard manicured fingernails staring up with large ice water eyes grinning slyly with them as she clutched tighter. Dragging Buffy back onto that large colorful board and strange choosing of game pieces.

"Awww. Come on Buffy! It's fun with real estate!" Dawn squealed and scooped up one of the game's pieces, because of the games neglect from multiple droppings, spills, and the occasional kick most of the game pieces had been lost and replaced with things such as… bottle caps.  
"Come on! I know you're just _itching _to put this bottle cap out for a spin!" She smiled and shoved it into Buffy's disgusted face.  
"NO! I refuse to spend the only day I can get away from the retail hell that is the Magic Box to spend it in a more retail-er ….in the game of Monopoly!" Buffy smacked the bottle cap away and grunted pulling her upper lip more. Giles had been kind enough to notice Buffy's exhausted demeanor and decided to give her the decision to take the day off. Of course she gulped that _way _down. Probably drowning without me, Buffy mindlessly thought as she reached for the now capless water bottle behind her and swallowed a large chug of it, but drowning sch-mowning I need fun! Though Buffy detested her job, and that was a light term for it, maybe 'throw it into Hades feed it to wild dogs and then let Andrew spend half an hour with it' would suit her hate more. But despite it all, Buffy was fairly good at her job; she surely did enough to dog paddle the two above water, was surprisingly handy with numbers and had finally gotten the hang of sending items. Though she wasn't the retail devotee as Anya nor was she the genius she could keep Giles out of the deep pit of despair that is bankruptcy.

Which was half the reason she doesn't want to play a game that when you lose you are bankrupted.

"Come on Buffy, you are no longer the eleven year old who lost every time! You're in retail now! You should be a whiz at this!" Dawn persisted as she laid the cards out all shiny and bended in their cheap paper and ink self. No, no Buffy, get a hold of yourself, do not destroy the ten dollar game, her mind warned and then turned up from her thoughts.  
"Are you kidding? Retail and me are sworn enemies. That little bearded hobo is the vampire to my Slayer." She growled and Dawn looked up curiously.  
"He's a hobo?"  
"Why else would he have that stupid stick thingy?!" Buffy shrugged off with an almost disgusted gesture. She took another guzzle of the condensation sweating water bottle and through a blanket of blonde bangs she saw Andrew who was staring fixatedly at the game board his brow scrunched up together and his lips pursed almost as if he was muttering something incomprehensible beneath his breath. Strange, her mind pointed seeing Andrew's almost distressed state, he usually is jumpy to play any game that is played with Buffy and Dawn. Andrew was always the drooling dog for attention, and always tagged along with Buffy like some kind of puppy yelping for some worthless bit of praise. It took most of Buffy's power to throw him off her scent. Now though, he was oddly quiet as he compensated with the 'to go' space and she wondered what was crawling around in the squirms of Andrew's brain. Though she didn't know it, he was under deep thought of the package, and why it had affected him so.

But this was for another time.

"Hey Aiken." Buffy casually spoke to him as she began to shuffle the neon orange and yellow cards into their proper places and while Dawn kept flicking around her bottle cap contently.  
"Huh?" He spoke up dumbfounded. Hah, funny, Buffy pondered, responds to it.  
"Clay. You know American Idol…?" Buffy reassured and pushed on. Yet Andrew stared at her with the same befuddled expression he had a moment ago. She sighed and pushed on, knowing that Andrew probably hadn't watched anything but Dr. Who and over rated soaps since birth….soaps… ugh, those are _not_ wanted memories.

"What's with you," She asked with Dawn perking up alongside her. "You seem strangely brood-y today. Are you still missing Bob Fett that doll…?"  
"It's an limited edition, mint condition action figu-" Andrew babbled as he began to try and protect the dignity of Mr. Bob Fett that had gone missing a week or two, that day Andrew had gone in hysterics. Mumbling about some lost memories of a freeze gun and missing heads? (A/N That was a funny episode I think it was Wrecked) Anyway for those days he had been concentrating on recovering his lost doll or action figure, whatever.

"Right, right whatever." Buffy waved away the long description, not interested in his attempts to shield Bob Fett from the word 'doll'.

"Yeah, Andy has been weird. This morning he was talking about pants and…." Dawn who had spoken up found herself cutting her own words off. As she suddenly realized that saying what Andrew had to her that morning wasn't the wisest decision. Especially with her Slayer strengthened sister beside her.

"I found him anyway," Andrew side noted with a hurt swagger. "Its not that. Just a bit… rattled." He then itched his chin a bit as he glared at the board as if it was guilty of a felon, then snatched out his hand to swipe away the aluminum race-car with a great crooked grin waving it in Dawn's puzzled face. "I got dibs on the car!"  
Hah. No change. Must be in your head, Buff, you need to get yourself outta there more often. She chimed to herself, a bit disturbed that she had just referred to herself as if she was in second person. Oh wells. Though she had just patched it all up with Andrew, she couldn't help but feel the heavy tension kneel over them. It was something in the baby blue of his eyes that were making her mind wander greatly.

Some kind of secret was almost lodged deeply inside those irises.  
After the large apocalypse there had been madness all consuming around Buffy and her kid sister. One being Andrew. Now that Faith had retreated over to Rome running off with her new free range Slayer son boyfriend Robin, and her two friends leaving her in a frenzy over Spike's death that hadn't barely submerged yet, Giles now persistent on having no one live with him (saying that keeping Spike NOW Andrew was way too much). Andrew was with out a home. Of course, he was almost useless with jobs. Yeah, he was intelligent at devising Demon rituals and making things like… exploding lint, but he just as Buffy had did not go to any college. And, now that he was with them, he was dead broke, so if Buffy couldn't even find her way into a decent university neither could Andrew. Nor did they have any other job openings for him at the new and improved Magic Box and Potential Hideaway spot. And hey, Buffy would've been happy throwing him off into the streets, though Dawn would have none of that.

_He's harmless! We can manage an extra bed, and he isn't much of a hassle! He might be a bit annoying and complain-y, but he's homeless and sweet! We'll make him do chores or something, but we cant just toss him out!_

Dawn's pleading eyes said it all. There was no way that Andrew could be thrown away so lightly into the uncaring world. Damn. The only glitch in Dawn's new and improved plan for Andrew was the room lodging.  
You see, Buffy wasn't quite ready for someone to sleep in the same room as her.

Even Dawn.

That was half the reason she had bought this flat! Two rooms, one for each of them, so little Buffsters could be all by her lonesome at night and that she could spread herself out into her pillows for a good cry before bed. Since the last person she had slept in the same room had been smoldered by the blistering sun to cave in the Hellmouth and Sunnyhell. So there was no way that she could even picture herself… nope.

That was that, Dawn and Andrew are now roomies. Of course Dawn squabbled over it with Buffy at least twice a day, never stopping to kick the over active little blonde hair boy from her room. But Buffy was stone. She had wanted him here, so she had consequences. Probably damns her innocent sweet conscience, Buffy thought as she gazed at her young sister through a cloud shining brown hair who was beginning to roll the dice, hah I love being heartless to the annoying.

And besides since Willow and Xander weren't…..

Willow and Xander.

God, just the names made her want to curl over and cry. How they had left had been so sudden and heart wrenching. Not long after the collapse Buffy had gone completely antisocial, swearing herself into the deep dark crevices of her room as she mourned over her almost lovers death. Her heart and mind had gone completely numbed with grief and was stunned by the shock that Spike would probably never return. Xander and Willow had been awfully helpful at first. They tried to nurse their wounded friend from the trauma with silent visits and little movies and get together nights. Some times the two would just stand beside her comforting hands both clasped onto her shoulders, with small and encouraging smiles. It made herself warm inside, such two amazing friends there to support and love her.  
But it was all too good to be true.

Through the poisonous mist of Buffy's anguish, there lay Xander. Who had also had a loved one be taken away by the horrid disaster the apocalypse was. Anya. Though they had of course split after the chaos of their muddled wedding, she had returned as a demon once more tried to jumble things up for Xander in a course of revenge but failed greatly. Finding herself once again – human. After that bedlam, the heat that had risen between the two hazed between the two once again, especially after Xander had gotten his eye torn out by that dammed Priest. And through the sidelines to Buffy it seemed the two might have a chance and make it out there, both beginning to scab over from the hurt they had both been caused and it gave a sweet and gentle feeling of bliss, that maybe her two friends (well Anya…. Co worker?) might reunite and gave their beautiful love a try.

It must've not been meant to be.

Bringers had slaughtered Anya, as she shielded Andrew saving his life, and even though Andrew's words did give a slight streak of peace and comfort to Xander. They had not done much. Though his heartache was silent and bottled up unlike Buffy's which was let loose on a rampage of hallow cries and tears, it still stung with the same intensity as hers. Buffy guessed that the hurt and pain that was churning in the belly of Xander had become way too much and he had to let it loose in not just rampages but in charges. Like a soda bottle that had been given too much of a wild shake, he imploded.

One day… Xander was just… gone.

He had left a note in his lonely one bedroom flat two doors down from Buffy's that read.

_I thought she had left me. But I was wrong. I'm off to Africa, do some soul searching. _

_Call my cell. Xander._

The news had been a blow to both Willow and Buffy both were flabbergasted by their best friends cloaked pain and of his disappearance. Buffy and Willow had never really been without Xander, he had been a part of their fragile life-line. Apart of their being you could say. He had been etched into their little Scooby gang, initiated instantly and his warm light geeky humor along with his sweet out look on life had kept the two going through the hard times. Its such a fall when one of the posts you lean on – fall down.  
Willow had been not much different. She had been residing with her newest girlfriend and now Slayer Kennedy, after the apocalypse and her goddess taste of power. She felt herself thirsting for more as she has two years ago when she had gone power hungry. Lusting for it, she had without Buffy's knowing cast a few dark and dangerous spells to enhance her senses and return that high god like feeling. But they of course backfired with incredible pain and spasms that had once occurred in Buffy's room when they mourned over Xander's disappearance. After he left she had eaten it all up more and more. Couldn't get enough of the soft stroking numbness to soothe her waning for her best friend since Kindergarten.

Her attack had been her downfall.  
One day she arrived at Buffy's door who had been wrapped up now silent as she gazed outside wondering if Xander was recovering in the hot and sandy plains of Africa and what it had been like when Spike had gone there for the trials. In her hands were two things a note of her new address and number and a large leather clad suitcase. Her face was smothered in tears, and she wrapped her arms around a never moving Buffy crying that she needed help and that she could find it in Romania. She would leave the next day with Kennedy at six.

Buffy was now all alone.

Well, not completely alone. Dawn was always near side her, and even though he wasn't completely wanted so was Andrew, not to mention Giles who always seemed to be leaving all the time. And though these thoughts did comfort, they did not succumb the sorrow of Willow and Xander's harbored pain that she never even noticed, too infatuated with her own. It was two years ago all over again. She was supposed to sense these things, have some kind of Buffy alarm system that was reliable so she could detect her friend's problems beforehand. Why was she so ignorant to the world? So closed off to everything but herself, it just wasn't right… was it? With a groan she propped herself into the couch's foreleg more so and took a large mouthful of air. Dawn interrupted her time to ponder over her situation by waving that goddamn bottle cap in her face.

"HelllloooOOOooo, earth to Buffy, time to land." She plopped the plastic top in Buffy's once closed fist. "Your turn."

-x-

"How can one person get into jail _eleven _times?" Dawn chimed her face cradled into her hands while she began to rearrange her wads of brightly colored money. Buffy slapped her face once again, traumatized that her cap had once again been sentenced to jail, all lonesome there. Dawn was by far the winn-e here, she was absolutely buried in bundles of cash and had her stout little red houses littered all over the game board including Boardwalk and most of the yearned for spaces. Andrew wasn't too close behind though as he had gained a knack for this game thanks to playing it multiple times with Anya when the two had been stranded alone. Though still throughout the game he was still quiet, and brooding deeply into his mind… Buffy could only wonder what was ringing inside there.  
"I, obviously can make anything possible. Ow! Damn tiny red house demon!" Buffy cursed as she had pounded her head once more on the coffee table this not-so-fun game had been laid on, only to be greeted with a short little red house to collide with her skull. Moaning she reached for her almost emptied water and stroked some across the now growing bump.  
Dawn clamped her hand over her mouth, attempting to muffle the laughter. "Buffy…urck…..you…erm… okay?" Buffy pulled her chin in and gave into a pouting face, as she caressed her stinging red cheek.  
"Don't worry Dawnie, Slayer healing powers will patch it up." She grumbled beneath her breath as Dawn kept giggling and snorting around. "But some sympathy from the peanut crowd would be nice." Dawn alarmed by the grunt gave a wide grin and slapped Buffy's back with an unnerving intensity. Andrew was still huddled up quiet and leering profoundly into the 'pass go' box once again.  
"I'm sure that the demon red house can't be matched with a Slayer." Dawn chortled as she patted Buffy's head.  
"Yeah? No one remembers what that means. I miss the good old days, especially when you weren't able to hit me so hard." She then became eerily quiet and turned to Dawn with large emerald eyes. Pleading. "Oh. My. God. I just said 'good old days' I'm old aren't I? Oh God!" Buffy moaned as she placed her throbbing head into her hands cradling them. "I'm _old, _I'm practically Giles 'cept blonde and you know… girl." Dawn laughed merrily as she flipped her dice once again, avoiding jail and her small cowboy visiting Buffy's bottle cap.  
"Aw, poor Buffy in her mid life crisis." She teased as she collect another clump of cash. Buffy peered through an finger her eyes blinking wildly.

"I'm serious, I mea-" Her voice suddenly stopped, and drifted off in the high shrill tone. Face looking perplexed, she slowly rose a hand to her cheek, which she was almost sure that she had felt some kind of cool cupping around it. And the deathly thing was that it was familiar, _very _familiar. Heart slowing and breath now hasty she tore away from it as fast as her little self could go from the alien yet easing invisible gesture stuck out towards her. It reminded her of… so much of… nope. Not possible… Her heart had began to flutter and race and her breath was choked into the ball of her wind pipe, Buffy's eyes widened drastically and she had to stifle out a soft heart aching cry. Probably just some random cool spot she had leaned into from the vents, her mind reassured. But as she turned her nose up to see the ceiling there was no vent….  
That is silly Buff….just silly… her mind chimed but she could not help but wonder.  
Dawn who was mystified by the sudden awkward silence torn between them and Buffy's strange jerky movements, what had happened.  
"Buffy?" She asked unsure what to say and feeling her tone slide off. Andrew though no one was paying attention at the moment eyes had grown to an incredible size. His heart had completely stopped in place and he found himself leaping up he began to make some wild hand gestures that both Buffy and Dawn turned befuddled by.  
"Go… go!" Andrew muttered darkly beneath his breath as he waved more towards his bedroom. Buffy still a bit stunned but quickly recovering turned to him confused, eyes shimmering.  
"Andrew...? Are you okay?" Andrew alarmed by her voice snapped out of it and beamed back at the two with an almost desperate quirk and began to stutter a bit as he whirled around to look into the door of his bedroom, a face of relief inked back in. He slid slowly back into his chair.  
"Erm, sorry, a fly… in my hand…" Buffy and Dawn turned to each other. Both were puzzled over the last few minutes, Buffy's mind racing and Dawn's trying to piece it all back together and both were leering suspiciously at the Star Trek loving blonde boy who was once again seated in his chair now almost panting. He gave a sweet half smile and turned the dice to himself.  
"Hah. Buffy you get to go to jail again."

-x-

Andrew was absolutely stunned.

For the whole game he had been dwelling on that strange and enticing feeling that the amulet from the Comic Book place (well that's what he guessed). It was just this itching bite it seemed almost into him, like some annoying mosquito padding around them. With an anticipated sigh he had continued with the game trying to act as if nothing had happened this morning but the truth of it something did, and the more and more that Andrew examined over it, the more and more he could tell that this was no prize that had been ordered off a cereal box. He didn't say much, except for when Buffy was talking about clay, which was pretty strange. Must be going off the wall, Andrew pondered as he glanced over his metallic race car to see that Dawn was still in the lead as she stroked over her heaps of thin colored paper. Time to step it up, his brain thought and he then turned to the strangle hushed Buffy. Her brow was furrowed in what seemed deep thought and the long cradling locks of blonde hair enveloped around her face, and she twittered as she slapped them away. It seemed no one was really into this game except for maybe the ever so excitable Dawn.

Go figure.

Suddenly a cold embrace swept itself around the room and it almost cloaked Andrew who had been staring down at his wiggling toes. He shivered and coughed a bit and heard Buffy and Dawn's teasing conversation come to an halt… and another voice perk up.

"Come on love, I know you can see me if you try…"  
That voice was way too deep and masculine to be the taunted Buffy and held a British accent… and the only one with that voice was…  
Andrew snapped to see what he had contemplated and was correct upon, Spike, the late vampire now incorporeal. Even the colors in him were faded as a ghost usually was when portrayed in movies and so on. He was cupping Buffy's face who had become completely silent, but her eyes never flickered over to the ocean ones of Spikes. Instead she had become still as ever and brought a quivering hand up to her face but it just phased right through the big bear hands of Spike's. "Bloody hell." He growled under his breath once he declared surrender with his chances parting his hands from Buffy's face.  
She couldn't see him.

No one could see him.

Except….me? His mind evoked as he turned up to Spike who had glanced over to him and eyes alarmed and widened.

"…..Andrew? Can you see me?"  
Not wanting to blow Spike's cover and make the others think of him as losing his last few marbles, he pounced back up and began nodding his head frantically and waving towards his bedroom. Spike held his ground next to Buffy, perplexed.

"Go….go…" Andrew snarled beneath his breath. What does it take to get this into his head!?

"Your bedroom? Sorry bloke I don't fly that way." Andrew furrowed his brow at Spike's not-very-wanted humor. The ghost nodded in agreement as he gave a quick smirk and took one last loving look at Buffy, with this strange sparkle in what Andrew had thought to be dull ones he departed to leave and retreat into Andrew and Dawn's room.

"Andrew…? Are you okay?" Andrew alarmed by her voice snapped out of it and beamed back at the two with an almost desperate quirk and began to stutter a bit as he whirled around to look into the door of his bedroom, a face of relief inked back in. He slid slowly back into his chair. This was going to be a problem….

"Erm, sorry, a fly… in my hand…" He weakly spoke and shuddered with the last drip of Spike's ghostly cool aura departed from the room and he glanced over to see Dawn and Buffy turning to each other as if for answers for his sudden strange difference in character. Andrew though was in deep thought. Why couldn't the others see Spike? And how the heck did he get there? ….Would he be able to get a body back?  
Andrew reached for the cool six sided dice and bounced them in his hand as he tossed them back onto the board revealing the last bits of Buffy's dread.

"Hah. Buffy you get to go to jail again."

-x-

The game finished in another half hour and Andrew was sure to make it speedy. He wiped through that board lighting fast so he could retreat to his bedroom and get some info on Spike's sudden return. Dawn had won in the end but it wasn't so much as a envious lose for Andrew. The second that board was folded he raced for his room.  
"Andy? I thought we were going to go to the cinema?" Andrew halted and turned to Dawn panting hard and muddled around a bit in his mind for a phony excuse. Got nothing.

"Eh… yeah… but I have this thing… yeah… that I have to do… in my room…. Don't come in!" He shouted and slammed the door behind him.

Dawn turned to her older sister who also was confused by Andrew's erratic behavior. Buffy shrugged her shoulders giving a tid bit of comfort.

"Well… he _is _a boy…."

Andrew a second later after closing the door almost screamed muffling it with his fist as he saw Spike lurk from the behindings of his door, his brow furrowed and he almost gave off this charred look. The same leather duster was on his shoulders along with the same pants and even black shirt. He was exactly the same the day he had been to pieces by the Hellmouth's blistering sun.

And so was his voice.

"Houston. I think we have a problem."

-x-

**Authors Notes: **Hmm sorry for the delay. I did another fic called Chained to You and I think I might take it off until I finish this one. I don't know maybe I can juggle both. I'm sort of disappointed in this chapter. I don't like how short it is and there's too much dialogue. But I put some kinky jokes in hah. I was disappointed in the lack of reviews but two alerts and 170 hits. So, maybe I should get some reviews? :D Stormiie  
_Read and Review Chained to You_

**Next Chapter: **Buffy consults in Giles to find out what that feeling was. And Andrew and Spike look a bit deeper into this amulet. What about Dawn and Noah?  
Hah… well she brings him home is what.


End file.
